Myrtle and Rose

Have you ever stood still on a warm summer evening, taken a deep breath of air and thanked who ever made it all happen. It is the sense of smell that tells you that you are not standing in the middle of a town but in the middle of a heavenly creation of a hebridean island. To the nostrils come spices and perfumes mixed with salt and surf. It is not long before you wonder what is that smell. You then trace its source and find a little bush not more than two feet tall. Spindled and unimaginary. You look again and say to yourself 'no this can't be it' then rubbing a small leaf of the plant the aroma hits the sinuses with a hammer. The flower on the shrub is antique yellow, looking like a small ear of wheat against the dark green leaves and the pollen is like gold dust. The smooth bark looks like well oiled leather, and the roots love standing in a rich mass of peat and spagum moss.

This is the common myrtle, a treasure of the wilderness bringing enjoyment to humans, and food to roaming sheep. Many an animal in the winter has blessed it for a nibble. The oil from this plant is meant to keep away the midge. You know the smaller they are the worse the bite!

The next time someone says 'it's only scrubwood' enlighten them to its merits and mention it's got a place in the order of things.

Now I am not a historian of any calibre, but those Jacobites had some sense of beauty, botany and boldness. Hidden in crevices of rock, clinging to life itself is a little rose. Leaves lighter and smaller than the normal, but the stems are covered in tiny thorns that must keep the rabbits from consuming it.

The small scented flower is outstanding, delicate, with paper thin creamy white petals and dark brown stamens that wink at you in the gentle breeze. The hips or seed heads are black, and that is why it is called the Burnet Rose but its more familiar name is the Jacobean Rose because it was the one worn by Charlie's followers as a badge.

Once it has flowered the old stem dies, and it then sends up suckers somewhere else, sometimes a few feet away. Watch out for these lovelies while walking on Coll, and next year I will find you some more to talk about. P.G